Legacy
by CA Crawford
Summary: Harley Denson is a normal witch with the normal problems of a witch living in a muggle town with a disloyal wand. However, one discovery in her grandfather's bookshop will reveal the secrets of her real identity and put her on a collision course with the greatest evil the wizarding world has ever faced.
1. Chapter 1

Harley Denson strained to put the book back where it belonged on the top shelf. She knew she wasn't supposed to use a chair to reach it, but the chair was right there and….

The chair wobbled beneath her and even though she was able to finally push the book home her footing beneath her gave way. She pushed slightly off the chair so as not to land on it and was rewarded by landing square on her bottom.

She cried out in pain. "That will hurt in the morning." She pushed her wild cinnamon colored hair out of her face before pushing herself up and dusting herself off. She wasn't a short woman. In fact, she was tall and thin like a willow branch. When she walked to the window to see her reflection her emerald green eyes looked back at her fair skinned face.

"Harley? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine grandpa." She called back, turning towards the back to see her grandfather making his way down from their upstairs apartment. "Really, just a short tumble is all."

"If you say so." He smiled. Harley loved her grandfather. He was a kind and gentle man in his sixties with piercing blue eyes and greying blonde hair. He took his usual spot behind the counter. "It's slow today if you want to go somewhere."

"Okay, I think I'll just go for a walk."

"Take care dear." He waved her out the door.

She grabbed a jacket from the hook by the door and started strolling down west avenue. She took a right at the streetlight and found the start of her usual walking trail at the public park entrance. She liked to walk through the park and people watch. She saw with a pang a group of young people her age enjoying a picnic underneath one of the trees.

Harley sighed. There would have been a time when she would have tried to introduce herself to the group, but she had learned a long time ago that most people in Harwick knew about "that weird Denson girl". Life as a witch in a muggle town wasn't always easy.

"What's the use of being magical if there's no one to talk to?" she mumbled to herself.

She missed Hogwarts. The school that had trained her to be a witch from the ages of eleven to seventeen had been a second home to her. She had made some wonderful friends there. In particular there were two boys named Samuel and Robert who had been her best friends. They had met on the train ride from King's Cross station on their first day and had been friends ever since. It had pained her to say goodbye to them at the Leaving Feast.

She shook her head and plopped down underneath her favorite ash tree in the park. It was on a little rise where she could see most of the park spread out beneath her. She watched a couple push their little girl on the swing. It was mesmerizing to her to watch the father and mother take turns, making sure to push the little girl ever higher. Her eyes followed the girl back and forth, as the girl's squeals of delight tugged a sad smile across Harley's face.

A small _pop_ behind her made her jump. Before she could stand up, a silver tabby cat slinked around the tree and paused beside her.

"Hello there." Harley reached out to pet the cat, which took a seat and purred staring at her all the while. She noticed there were strange markings around the cats' eyes. The father and mother by the swings finally took their daughter and left, so Harley sat and watched other families stroll through the park or play with their children, all the while scratching behind the ears of the cat.

The sun was making its way below the horizon when Harley finally stood to make her way home.

"I would bring you home, but I don't think grandpa would approve." She looked at her newfound friend. Strangely, it almost looked as if there was a tear in the cat's eyes. "Strange, I didn't know cats could cry."

She turned to go, "Well, goodbye." She waved to the tabby. She made her way slowly down the hill, pausing for a moment by the swing the little girl had been in earlier.

* * *

"Hi grandpa." Harley called out when she had entered Aaron's Emporium. Her grandfather was behind the counter, counting the money in his register.

"Enjoy your walk dear?"

"Yes sir. I'll head upstairs and get started on dinner." She made her way to the foot of the stairs. Aaron chuckled.

"No need, there's some already waiting for you." He gave her his signature smile. She grinned in return and hurried up the stairs.

Their upstairs apartment was a simple place. A sitting room that merged into a small kitchen was to her left and a hallway to her right led to their two bedrooms. Waiting on the counter was a bubbling pot of her grandfather's chicken soup and signature crotons.

It was with a warm and full belly that she settled onto her bed an hour later with a worn copy of _Phantastes_.

"You and your fairy tales." Her grandfather's teasing voice proceeded him into the room.

"You know I've always loved magical stories." She grinned.

"Yes indeed." He took a seat at the foot of her bed. "I thought you might faint when your Hogwarts letter arrived. After all, it was your chance to live out some of the magic you love so much."

Her smile faltered. "Yeah…." She waved her wand at her music box in the far corner, but nothing happened. It took her three tries before the soft tinkling music began to play. "Too bad I've always been rubbish at it."

"Come now, you made excellent grades in school." Aaron soothed. "The best they had seen in thirty years in fact. You're a very gifted witch. Given your wand trouble, I would say you are perhaps one of the best."

She looked forlornly at her wand. It was a rather simple piece of thirteen inch oak wood with a single unicorn hair for a core. "You still haven't heard from Mr. Ollivander?"

Her grandfather chuckled, "You know that I haven't. You check the post every day." Harley sighed and thumbed her wand. Aaron reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "Now come on, don't let it get to you."

"I'm the only person who didn't have a wand match." Her voice cracked as her eyes stung with tears. "Thousands of years and the only person to not have a loyal wand is me."

"That's not true. I'm sure plenty of other witches and wizards have struggled with their wands. Ollivander isn't the only wand maker you know." He cupped her chin in his hands. "I'm sure one day your wand will recognize that a great witch holds it in her hands."

Harley sniffed and forced a smile.

"There, that's better." Her grandfather smiled. "Now, I'm tucking in for the night. Don't let Mr. MacDonald keep you up all night."

She laughed as she thumbed to her bookmark. "I won't."

The door closed behind him and her grandfather made his way to his own bedroom. Opening her book to where she left off, Harley let her mind wander off into fairy land.


	2. Chapter 2

Harley woke the next morning and did what she did every morning. She reached for the necklace sitting on her bedside table and put it on. It was a small snitch on a thin golden chain. Her grandfather had told her it was the only thing that had escaped the fire that had killed her parents. It was the only link to them that she had and she made sure to wear it every day. It made her feel like her parents were still with her and sometimes she could swear that it grew warm to the touch whenever she thought about the family she couldn't remember.

After a warm shower and a light breakfast, she made her way downstairs where she turned on all the lights and unlocked the doors. It was Sunday, so her grandfather would be at morning mass. Being Sunday, it wouldn't be a busy day at the shop. In fact, she was already making her way to the back to sort some of the new books when the tinkling of the door made her halt. She returned to the front desk to see a tall man dressed in a black overcoat making his way to the desk.

"Can I help you sir?" she asked, unnerved by the man's appearance. He had very unruly jet black hair and pale skin that was swollen underneath a pair of intense green eyes that looked startlingly like her own.

The man seemed to consider her for a moment. "Why yes, I was wondering if the owner was available?"

"He's not in at the moment, what exactly do you need him for?"

"A personal matter." He spoke very softly with just a hint of an accent Harley couldn't place.

"Well I can let him know you came by, what's your name?"

"I'd rather not answer that, I'll just be on my way." The man pulled up the collar on his jacket and turned to go, but not before stopping in the doorway to give Harley a searching look that made her shiver.

The door tinkled closed behind him and he was gone. Harley stood rooted to the spot, deeply disturbed by the extremely odd conversation she had just had. What disturbed her most were his eyes. Not only were they just like hers, but it was the way he looked at her. Almost as if he knew her.

She shook her head clear. There wasn't any way that man knew her and she probably wouldn't see him again. So she made her way back to the storage room to sort the new books.

The storage room was a small and cramped room that was piled high with books. Most of them were extra copies of books that sold well, neatly stacked and arranged alphabetically. Near the back was a desk with two cardboard boxes full of the new arrivals that would be put on display on the front shelves. Harley grabbed a box cutter that was lying on the desk and cut the boxes open and put the stacks onto table. She would first get them all out and sorted before she moved them into the shop. When she went to grab the last stack, she didn't quite get the grip she needed and the stack fell with a loud _thump_ onto the desk.

This wasn't exactly an odd occurrence, but what was odd was the softer _thump_ that she had heard in the drawer of the desk.

Harley had never known the desk to house anything. In fact, she was sure that her grandfather had told her that he didn't even own the key to open the drawer. She lifted the stack of books again and dropped them on purpose and again herd the answering sound come from the drawer.

The strangest curiosity came over Harley. She felt compelled to know what was in the drawer. Maybe the encounter with the stranger had left her wanting some sort of real answer for the increasingly strange day she was having. Either way, she found herself clambering the steps two at a time until she reached her wand lying on the bedside table. Taking them three at a time on the way down, Harley proceeded back into the storage room. It was almost noon, so her grandfather would be home any minute now. If she wanted to see what was in the drawer without risking exposure, now was her chance.

" _Alohomora!"_ she waved her wand at the desk drawer. Nothing happened.

" _Alohomora!"_ she cried again and this time heard the satisfying _click_ of the drawer unlocking itself. She gingerly reached and pulled the drawer open.

It was empty, save for a long and narrow wooden box. It was the kind that had a sliding lid, much like she had seen in Ollivander's wand shop in Diagon Alley. A sudden unease settled over her. Why would there be a wand box in her grandfather's storage room?

She picked up the wooden box and slid back the lid. Inside was an off-white colored wand that was carved with a vine wrapping around it. Instantly she felt a surge running through her arm and the wand vibrated in her hand and began to emit sparks. A small wind rushed through her hair and the room seemed to grow brighter of its own accord.

Before she could even take in what was happening it was over. Harley felt her heart hammering against her chest and her hands shaking.

"I was hoping this day would never come."

Harley jumped and turned to see her grandfather standing in the doorway. He sighed and she noticed that there were tears in his eyes. "Grandpa, I'm sorry I know I shouldn't have looked. I…."

"No Harley, I'm sorry that you had to find it this way."

"Grandpa," she blurted out, curiosity overwhelming her. "Whose wand is this?"

He actually smiled. "It's yours now, if you haven't noticed."

She gave her grandfather a confused look. "Go on child, try it." He waved towards several books that had fallen from their stacks. Harley concentrated and waved the wand. The books flew from the ground and neatly piled back onto their respective stacks. "See? The wand always chooses its master and now that wand has chosen you."

The gears in her mind seemed to jam. "But, why was it here? Is it yours?"

"Oh no, I'm afraid I have forever been a muggle." Her grandfather stepped past her and pulled out the small chair from beside the desk, sighing explosively. "That wand…..belonged to your mother."

A pit seemed to open up in Harley's chest. "M-My mother? But you said my mother…..both of my parents were muggles. I've been a muggleborn my whole life."

Her grandfather looked at her, tears now flowing freely down his face.

"Grandpa please…."

"I'm not your real grandfather." His voice cracked, "Your parents were not muggles that died in a house fire. Harley Jane Denson is not your real name."

Her ears heard what her grandfather was saying, but the words seemed to bounce off of her brain. "W-What? What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, that you are not who you think you are." Her grandfather's voice was suddenly very grave.

A loud crashing sound came from the front of the store. "In the back!" a loud voice shouted.

"The door Harley!" her grandfather was suddenly standing and pointing at the storeroom door. In the moment she took to process his order a large man in black robes filled the door.

"Freeze!" he held his wand aloft.

Harley finally came to her senses and threw the wand box towards the man. In the split second he took to consider what was flying towards him, she waved her wand and the door slammed shut and the lock clicked.

"Quick, here." Her grandfather grabbed her hand and went towards a very dusty box that she had always been told to leave alone. He opened the top of the box to reveal a large toy tractor. "Harley, I want you to grab the tractor on three."

"One…two…"

The door behind them crashed open.

"Three!" her grandfather grabbed one hand while she touched the toy with the other. The instant she touched it she felt a jerking motion around her navel and suddenly the world was spinning wildly around them.


End file.
